The L.A. Dodger (3 page)

“Watch out for strangers!”
she read, her eyes wide.

“It’s a mystery!” Mike said. “That’s two things we have to keep an eye out for. Kate’s notebook and strangers. Cool!”

Bzzzz. Bzzzz
. Mr. Hopkins’s cell phone rang.

“Hang on for a minute,” Mr. Hopkins said. “I have to get this. It might be a work call.” He put the phone up to his ear and left the table. Mike and Kate crunched on their cookies.

“It sure sounds like someone’s following my dad!” Kate said. “I think we should help him keep an eye out for strangers.”

Mr. Hopkins returned to the table. His face was pale.

“Dad, what’s the matter?” Kate asked. “Is everything okay?”

Kate’s father slumped down into his seat. “I think my fortune cookie came true,” he said. “Someone just warned me to leave my job with the Dodgers. Or else there will be trouble!”

The warm April sun woke Mike up before the alarm clock went off. He caught the smell of bacon and heard the murmur of voices coming from the kitchen. Mike rubbed his eyes and looked for Kate. The top bunk was empty. She must have gotten up even earlier.

“Hey, look who’s finally awake!” Kate said as Mike came out from Mr. Hopkins’s guest bedroom. “Just couldn’t keep away from the pancakes, eh?”

Mike sat down at the table. Mr. Hopkins placed a large plate of steaming pancakes in front of him. Mike poured himself a glass of orange juice and picked two pieces of bacon from a plate in the middle of the table. Kate was already halfway through her breakfast.

“Guess what Dad gave me,” Kate said. She held out a small black notebook. It was just like the one her father carried in his shirt pocket. “This is to replace the notebook I lost in the airport. I’ve already written down some of the things I want to see. We’re going to start with Dodger Stadium, right after breakfast.”

“Cool!” Mike said in between gulps of orange juice. “Hey, Uncle Steve, did you figure out who called you last night at the restaurant?”

“No. After you kids went to bed, I talked with the team’s manager,” Mr. Hopkins said.
“He called the police. Dodgers security was also notified.”

“Who do you think is after you?” Mike asked.

“I don’t know, but whoever it is also stole a cell phone from our hitting coach yesterday,” Mr. Hopkins said. “Maybe it’s a San Francisco Giants fan, trying to cause some trouble. The Dodgers and the Giants have been huge rivals since both teams moved out here in 1958. Giants fans are mad we beat them last year, so maybe they’re looking for revenge.”

Mike nodded and finished off his pancakes. While Kate’s father cleaned up the dishes, Kate and Mike found their hats and filled water bottles for their day of sightseeing. On the way out, Mike grabbed a baseball from his luggage and put it in his sweatshirt pocket.

They started sightseeing across the street at Palisades Park. The park was a long ribbon of green grass nestled between the main street and a cliff overlooking the Pacific Ocean. Joggers ran by. Palm trees rustled in the morning breeze.

“This is pretty,” Kate said. She pulled out her camera and took a picture of the beach.
“Look! A Ferris wheel!” She pointed to a wooden boardwalk that jutted out into the ocean.

“That’s the Santa Monica Pier,” her father said. “We can go down there another time.”

Kate snapped some more pictures of the ocean, the pier, and the palm trees. Then Mr. Hopkins went to get the car out of the garage.

“Are you on the lookout for strange people?” Mike asked Kate while they sat on the grass under a palm tree. “Maybe we can figure out who’s following Uncle Steve and why.”

When Mr. Hopkins pulled up, the kids hopped in the car, and they drove to Dodger Stadium.

They arrived just in time for the ten o’clock tour. It started on the concrete deck at the top of the stadium. Below the deck were rows of empty seats. Mike, Kate, and Mr.
Hopkins wore baseball hats to shield their eyes from the bright California sun. The tour guide, a tall, thin man in a Dodgers baseball cap, stepped out of a nearby elevator.

“Hello, everyone,” he said as he collected tickets. “My name is Dan. Welcome to the beach!” Dan swung his outstretched arm across the view of the stadium behind him.

“Uh, Dan?” Mike piped up. “We’re not at the beach. We’re at Dodger Stadium.” The other fans in the tour group nodded.

Dan smiled. “That’s what you think!” he said. “Take a closer look at the colors of the seats in the stadium. The lowest section of seats is yellow. The next section up is gold. The section above that is light blue. And, finally, these seats near us at the top are dark blue. Anyone know why?”

Everyone looked at the seats in the different levels of the stadium. “Maybe it was cheaper to buy different-color seats,” a woman in a Yankees shirt joked.

“No, I’ll tell you why,” Dan said. “Remember, the Dodgers built this stadium when they moved to California from New York. They wanted the stadium to remind people of a California beach. The yellow seats are the sun. The gold seats are the sand. The light blue ones are the color of shallow water. And the dark blue seats are the deep blue sea or the sky.”

“That’s so cool!” Mike said.

“That’s not all,” Dan added. “See the pavilion seats in the outfield?” Everyone nodded. “Look at the roof of those seats. What shape is it?”

“It’s wavy,” said a man in a cowboy hat.

“Exactly,” Dan said. “It’s like waves
crashing on the beach! What could be more California than that? Come on. Let’s take a look at the rest of the stadium.”

Dan led the group through the ballpark. Along the way, he told them that Dodger Stadium was the third-oldest major-league ballpark. Only Fenway Park in Boston and Wrigley Field in Chicago were older.

One of the first stops on the tour was the pressroom. Everyone took a seat at the rows of long desks. In front of them were large, open windows that overlooked home plate. Behind them was a private dining room for the sports reporters. Dan pointed out the free ice cream machine in the corner.

“Wow! No wonder your mom likes being a reporter!” Mike whispered to Kate.

After spending fifteen minutes telling them about Dodger history, Dan led the tour
group to the Dugout Club. The Dugout Club was a special restaurant under the seats behind home plate. It also had trophy cases with signed bats, a home plate from Ebbets Field in Brooklyn, World Series trophies, and other special items.

The group fanned out across the room. Mike and Kate admired the trophies and cases of valuable souvenirs. Then they walked over to the far wall. It was covered with pictures of famous Dodgers.

“Hey—what’s Babe Ruth doing in a Dodgers uniform?” Mike asked. He pointed to a framed photograph halfway up the wall. It showed Babe Ruth in a Dodgers shirt and a cap with a
B
on it. “I thought he only played for the Red Sox and the Yankees!”

“He also played one season for the Boston Braves, at the end of his career,” Dan said.
“But he always wanted to be a manager. The Brooklyn Dodgers hired him as a first-base coach in 1938. He only coached for one summer.”

Dan led them up to the Dodgers dugout, on the third-base side of the field. They weren’t allowed on the infield grass, but Dan said they could explore the dugout. Mike and Kate scrambled over to the players’ benches and took pictures. Mike snapped a picture of Kate picking up the telephone that hung on the wall and pretending to call the bull pen for a new pitcher.

When the tour ended, Dan led the group back to the top deck. Mike, Kate, and Mr. Hopkins stayed behind. Mr. Hopkins wanted to talk with one of the Dodgers’ coaches. He had spotted the coach over by first base.

“You kids wait here while I talk with
Tommy,” Mr. Hopkins said. “Then we’ll do some more sightseeing.”

Mike and Kate waited by the infield railing. They pretended to manage a game and make baseball signs for imaginary hitters. Kate’s first batter hit a line drive double. Mike’s batter had three balls and two strikes before he hit a ball high into the left-field stands. Mike followed the imaginary ball
with his eyes. It flew into the upper deck of the stadium. “Home run!” Mike yelled as he pumped his fist. “Yeah!”

As he watched the ball, something caught his attention. “Hey, what’s that?” Mike asked Kate. He pointed to a man near the dark blue seats at the top of the stadium. The man wore a white polo shirt, tan pants, and a blue Boston Red Sox baseball cap. A black backpack hung over his shoulder, and he held a pair of binoculars up to his eyes. The binoculars were directed toward Mr. Hopkins and the Dodgers coach.

Kate gasped. “He’s spying on my father!” she said. “Maybe he’s the one who called last night!”

“Quick, follow him,” Mike said. “Before he gets away!”

Kate and Mike tore up the concrete stairs to the main concourse. They ran to the elevator they had taken earlier with the tour group. Mike pushed the white
UP
button and waited. Nothing happened. He pushed it again. Still nothing.

“It’s not even lighting up,” Kate said, pacing near the elevator door. She pointed to the small metal lock below the elevator button. “I think you need a key to open it.”